


You Were Broken Glass

by StormbornQueen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, SPECTRE (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5266433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormbornQueen/pseuds/StormbornQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James hangs up his status of a double-O agent in light of all that's happened, but being retired isn't as easy as he thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> At the end of Spectre, I concluded that James would step away from MI6, at least for a little while. However I don't think that would be an easy task for him, as it's the only life he's ever known, so this fic was born. I've thrown in Monica Bellucci's character of Lucia Sciarra because I thought Monica and Daniel had dazzling chemistry that was greatly neglected in the movie. Please, enjoy. :)

_YOU WERE BROKEN GLASS,_

_BUT I STILL TOUCHED YOU EVEN THOUGH_

_I KNEW I WOULD GET HURT_

* * *

 

 

_One, two, three, four, and breathe._

_One, two, three, four, breathe._

James let the methodical swim take over his thoughts as he propelled himself to the end of the pool to complete his fifteenth lap. His lungs burned as he turned and urged himself to go faster, trying to block out the feeling of anxiety that pulsed through his veins. He thought exercise would ease the feeling of needing to do something, needing to be somewhere, needing to hold a gun in his hands.

He held his breath for the next few strokes and grabbed for the side of the pool. He broke the surface and sucked in air, leaning his elbows on the warm stone edge. He ran a calloused hand over his face and just tread water for a moment, taking deep breaths to try and edge his aggravation. He felt trapped on most days, lost on others, such was the case today. 

James felt eyes on him, and turned to see dark sunglasses staring at him from over the top of a book. Smirking, he pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed the towel off the nearby chair, quickly drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. He walked to the lounge chair beside the pool and sat at it's edge, regarding the stunning woman before him.

"You're not yourself today," she said, setting the book down. "Have I made you bored already?"

"Never,  _bella Lucia_ ," he murmured, stroking her thigh. He'd arrived at her secret upstate New York estate just yesterday. They'd seen each other every few weeks since the fall of Spectre, but he always stayed at her estate and never for longer than three days. 

"What bothers you then?"

"Nothing."

She regarded him for a moment as he looked out across the gardens. His jaw was clenched, his brow furrowed, those crystal blue eyes far away. She grabbed his hand from her thigh, rubbing small circles with her thumb until he looked at her. "You're restless."

She just got a steely look before he pulled his hand from hers and stood up, walking back into the house.

* * *

 

 

After she had told him he was restless, James had left, and hadn't come back to her for three weeks. When he did come back, he walked up the drive with a purpose in his step, and swept her into his arms when she greeted him at the door. This was a different James; a James still running off of adrenaline. 

"Where have you been," she asked between kisses. 

He didn't respond, instead running kisses down her neck as he pushed her against the wall. She looked down at him through hooded lids, noticing the still fresh cuts and bruises that littered the back of his neck and appeared to span down his back. She pulled the collared shirt from his waist, running her hands underneath it to feel the taut muscles of his stomach. Her hands brushed against a bandage and he winced, pulling away.

"James..."

"It's nothing. Come on."

He kissed her again as he pulled her to the bedroom.

He made love to her like a man that had gone mad. He was rough and hungry, but his adrenaline was wearing off. Whatever he had done earlier that day, it was not enough to satisfy his need to be an agent again. The feeling of being needed, being important, had slowly burned it's way out of his mind and left him feeling hollow. He rolled off of Lucia, staring up at the ceiling as he caught his breath. She stared at him in the darkness, her fingers itching to reach out and comfort him. She expected him to come back to her like this; a hardened soldier trying to find his way in the world. 

They fell asleep with their backs to one another. Later into the night, Lucia woke when a cold burst of air hit her back. She blinked her eyes open, listening to the ragged breaths of the man next to her as he pushed himself out of the bed.

The first thing Lucia had noticed many weeks ago about James' nightmares was that he didn't thrash about or wake with a start; he woke out of breath. He'd sit up in bed for a few moments, then move silently, slipping out of the covers and moving through the house until he got to the kitchen. He'd come back with a glass of what he claimed was water, but she knew it was some of her expensive scotch or brandy. He'd sit in bed, his back against the ornate headboard, and she'd sit and listen to his shallow breaths until they evened out under the influence of the liquor. She never knew how to console him, as she fought her own demons, and he wasn't exactly the type to share how he felt.

This time though, when he returned to the bed with the glass of brandy in his hands, she turned over to look up at him. 

"You know, I think you have a drinking problem," she said softly, hugging the blankets to her. 

"The drinking seems to wash my problems away."

"But only for a little while. You need to get away James, enjoy life."

James didn't reply, instead setting the glass down on the bedside table and moving back under the blankets, lying flat on his back. "I wish it were that easy, Lucia."

She scooted closer to him, draping an arm across his abdomen and resting her head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her.

"Come back to London with me,  _bella Lucia_. Step away from home for a while."

"This is not my home," she whispered. "My home was taken from me a long time ago."

"Then it's settled, you'll return to London with me tomorrow."

* * *

 

In the two weeks that Lucia had stayed with James in his London flat, she'd unpacked all his boxes and organized his furniture. The bobble-head bulldog remained in its usual place on the coffee table, James paper's from Skyfall still sitting underneath it. She knew the stack of papers contained the delicate information from his past, but she didn't dare look at them, not until he was ready to let her. He'd slowly opened up to her, and with every secret he whispered in her ear and every bad deed he spoke softly of, she could see the relief slowly creeping in and the anxiety and frustration slowly creeping out. He still slept with a gun under his pillow, still answered the phone with apprehension, and still scanned every area for possible threats, but old habits die hard. Perhaps those habits and a few more would never go away, because being a double-O agent would always be a major part of James life. Just like how she herself would always be quiet and reserved, because too many years spent with her late husband taught her that keeping quiet was the best way to stay safe.

James still had moments when he seemed hollow and far away. Lucia worked to ease those moments, knowing they wouldn't be going away anytime soon. He'd sometimes try and push her away, but he was the only person in a long time that made her feel like she had a purpose, so she braved his worst days and stayed with him.

It was late in the evening on a Tuesday when James had one of those moments, walking into the bathroom while Lucia soaked in the tub. He sat on the cold tile floor in his slate grey suit, his head resting against the edge of the tub. Lucia ran a hand through his short blonde hair, waiting for him to speak.

"Time isn't healing any of this. It still hurts in the middle of the day. It hurts at night. It hurts at 2 in the morning. Time goes on, but it still hurts the same," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Being an agent made me think that the things I've done are justifiable, but now I'm not so sure."

Lucia said nothing, instead regarding the moment at hand. The two of them were shattered glass where once they were mirrors of the people that had influenced and controlled them. 

"It's always going to hurt, James. You just have to learn to live with it, because that part of you will never go away."

* * *

 

It was a foggy London morning when Moneypenny and Q met Lucia at the corner cafe. They sat in a secluded corner, the lights dim, and their hands wrapped around their warm cups of coffee (well, tea for Q). 

"So you worry for 007? He's always seemed to manage fine on his own," Q said, studying Lucia.

"He's not the same since Spectre. Being an agent was a big part of his life, he's not sure what to do with himself now."

"I've had him do errands for me though, Ms. Sciarra. He's not completely out of the loop."

"Q, I hardly think dropping off 009's Aston is comparable to being an agent," quipped Moneypenny. 

"I told him if he got a cat, he wouldn't be having these problems," Q muttered, raising his mug to his lips.

"Perhaps M can let him do small assignments, or work at the training center. There's got to be somewhere we can stick him."

"I think the training center would be ideal, Moneypenny. James, the man who crashes an Aston Martin every ten minutes, teaching our new recruits to drive. Brilliant."

Moneypenny glared at Q before turning to Lucia. "I'll talk to M, see what he has to say. I'll be in touch."

Lucia said her thanks and watched the MI6 agents stand and leave the cafe.

 

* * *

A few days after her meeting with Q and Moneypenny, Lucia was in the kitchen preparing dinner when James strode in, a smirk on his face.

" _Ciao, bella Lucia_ ," he said, coming to stand behind her and wrap his arms around her waist.

" _Ciao, amore mio_ ," she replied, leaning into him. "Why so cheery, hmm?"

"I've just received a call from M. He said Moneypenny ran a great idea across him."

"And what is this idea?"

"They want me reinstated as an agent."

Lucia turned in his arms and looked him in the eye. "Is this what you want?"

Those crystal blue eyes stared back at her. "Very much so. Plus, I'm not allowed on missions, I'm only allowed at the training center."

"So you'll be an instructor for recruits?"

"Special Ops instructor for the final recruits."

"James, that's wonderful."

He smiled and closed the distance between them, her lips sweet against his. Yes, the two of them were shattered glass of broken pasts. But together they picked up the pieces and put one another back into place to become a new whole.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. I know it may of been a bit OC, but I just loved the idea of these two together and James wondering what to do with his life.   
> Italian words translated:  
> bella: beautiful  
> ciao: hello  
> mio: my  
> amore: love


End file.
